


The Graying Hair Affair of Two Thousand and Forty Something

by Commodore_Enigma



Series: The SWAT Captain and the Detective He Loved [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing that gets resolved, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commodore_Enigma/pseuds/Commodore_Enigma
Summary: Gavin discovers a secret his husband has been hiding from him. Though minor in the grand scheme of things and by no means deal-breaking, it displays an insecurity that he should really address.
Relationships: Captain Allen/Gavin Reed
Series: The SWAT Captain and the Detective He Loved [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534358
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	The Graying Hair Affair of Two Thousand and Forty Something

**Author's Note:**

> Credit goes to CionAltima here on ao3 for the wonderful concept behind this fic- it was very fun to write Allen being a bit on the melodramatic side.

It wasn’t until they were married for a year and a half that Gavin truly noted the gray hairs. He knew they were there before; but they were rare, sparse little strands that could have just been a trick of the lighting for all he cared.

He only really took notice of it one night, when they were lounging on the couch. For a change of routine, along with the fact it was a particularly long and tough day for him, Kent was sprawled out with his face hidden in Gavin’s chest; his breath soft and warm through Gavin’s shirt.

Gavin sleepily combed his fingers through Kent’s hair, paying little mind to the droning from the voices on the TV.

Glancing down in a moment of affection, a small cluster of gray towards the back of Kent’s head caught his eye, mixed in with the predominantly brown hairs.

How had he missed that? Gavin traced his pointer finger along them, feeling their slightly thinner texture while commenting; “Aww, have I had that much of an effect on you, old man?”

“What’re you on about?” Kent grumbled into his shirt.

“You have more gray hair. I’m surprised it took this long to really start, did you seriously not notice?” he lightly pinched the hairs in his fingers, admiring how starkly they contrasted with Kent’s original shade.

Kent tensed up and shook his head, pulling the hair out of Gavin’s delicate grip with the motion, muttering irritably, “I wasn’t aware it mattered.”

Two weeks passed before Gavin actively remembered to look for the gray hairs. He was half asleep in bed, ready to try to stretch over and turn off the lamp without disturbing an already sleeping Kent in his arms, when he recalled the gray hairs. Gently, he ran his fingers over the back of Kent’s head, around where he had spotted them initially.

He frowned when he saw nothing that stood out. Maybe it was more subtle than he had originally thought; he parted the hairs and still couldn’t find any. 

Strange... then again, maybe he was looking in the wrong spots. He was too damn tired, after all.

Though it took moving as slow and controlled as possible, he succeeded in turning off the light without Kent so much as stirring. He combed back Kent’s hair and settled in for bed.

A few months later, Gavin found himself digging through the contents of the cabinet, pulling assorted household items out and haphazardly tossing them off to his side.

Fucking hell. He _ still _hadn’t found the safety pins- he was down to two cabinets left to search in the whole apartment. This was getting ridiculous.

He emptied the cabinet to no avail.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groused as he began to unceremoniously shove the items back into the cabinet.

He paid next to no attention to the items, knowing none of them would point him to the _ one _safety pin he needed. Gavin was about to forcefully place a small box back when the design caught his eye.

He stopped mid-motion to stare at it.

Hair dye? What the hell?

It was for a medium brown tone… Kent’s hair tone. Already opened. He unscrewed the lid and inspected the bottle. It was partially empty.

Oh shit. Kent’s aloof reaction. The disappearing gray hairs.

That sneaky asshole! Hiding it in their tiny laundry room, of all things. A minor secret in the grand scheme of things, but honestly. Was his husband really _ that _ insecure over his hair naturally changing?

Placing the bottle back in its box, he set it aside and continued to store the items back in their general places. When he was done, he snatched the box and carried it out to the living room. He had to stage himself; Kent would be home soon.

Gavin sat at the breakfast bar, staring blankly at the box of hair dye. Clearly this was an issue he would have to have Kent address… he both looked forward to and dreaded how Kent would react at being confronted the second he set foot in their home.

A code was being entered into their door, and Gavin grasped the box and began to storm towards it as Kent opened it and stepped in.

Kent didn’t even get to greet him before Gavin shoved the hair dye box in his face, declaring in a voice that reverberated out into the hallway, “KENTON ALLEN. WE NEED TO TALK.”

Kent’s mouth was open as he was fully caught off guard, eyes widened at the sight of the box in front of him. 

Just as Gavin had predicted, his initial facial expression was amusing, in that split second before his jaw clenched and his eyes went icy. He closed the door, stepping into Gavin’s space and pushing aside the box. “How the hell did you find that?”

“You sly fucker, hiding it in the _ laundry room _of all places?! Honestly.”

“Since when do you rummage through cabinets in there?”

“I was looking for a safety pin. Instead I found _ this_,” he gestured with the hair dye box. “What’s this? You having a midlife crisis on me?”

Kent acknowledged him with a dangerous glare. Oops, Gavin had struck a nerve. As he had expected. 

“Fuck off. It’s none of your business!” he barked, shifting into an intense mannerism normally utilized during working hours.

“I think it is my business, _ Kenny_.”

Kent lurched to the side to grab the box, but Gavin stepped back. “Dammit Gavin, give me that!”

Gavin held it high, rattling the box as he continued moving away from him. “Oh no I won’t. Not until you tell me why the fuck you’re doin’ this, old man.”

“I come home from a long day to _ this_? Fucking seriously?” Kent groaned, slowly walking towards Gavin. He tensed up, ready to jump away.

Even though he thought he was ready, he wasn’t. Kent changed his speed, suddenly sprinted in from the side; and in a swift motion hopped, forcefully snatched the box in a fashion that resulted in Gavin’s hand getting abruptly yanked, and strode off, holding it high.

“Fuck. Kent-”

“Don’t,” he snapped. As he stormed away, he continued, “And don’t you fucking test me, Reed! I’m still in my prime.”

Gavin frowned after him as he disappeared into their bedroom, the door slamming behind him, cradling his hand. It wasn’t even sprained, but still. Fucking _ ow _.

Even by his standards, that could have gone better.

Gavin stood in the kitchen, absently watching the second cup of coffee pour. Kent hadn’t left their bedroom for a few hours, but he’d heard him pacing within it at times. It was getting late; he wanted to at least sleep in their bed, even if he was off to the side farthest from Kent.

When the mug was largely full he added the slightest amount of sugar and carried it towards the bedroom, knocking on the door.

A tired, “What?” cued him to open it and step in. Better than a snarled, “Fuck off,” by any means.

Kent was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in his usual pajamas, the box of hair dye in his hands. He kept a wary eye on Gavin, glancing at the coffee cup.

Gavin didn’t know what to say right away. Somehow, no matter how many arguments they had endured through the years they’d known each other, he never knew how to outright apologize.

Then again, Kent was at the point where he fully understood Gavin’s subtle ways of apologizing, which were so similar to his own. Even when Kent wasn’t immediately ready to address or accept the acts of reconciliation following their arguments, the fact that he always knew what Gavin meant forever stood as one of the many reasons he loved him.

So he gestured with the mug of coffee, informing him: “it’s decaf.”

Kent raised an eyebrow, “Where’s yours?”

“I already drank it,” he set the mug down on the nightstand, before sitting next to Kent. Kent began to get up, but Gavin reached a hand out and grabbed his arm, ignoring the slight ache; “Oh no you don’t. You stay and talk to me.”

Kent kept a controlled, blank face and sat back down, moving the box to his side farthest from Gavin.

“Fine.”

“Why’d you hide that from me?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

“It obviously _ does _ matter, Kent. Why’d you do that?”

Kent said nothing, staring at the wall in front of him.

After a minute or two passed, Gavin huffed. “Fucking seriously? Stop being such a damn child and _ talk to me_! I can’t always read your mind!” 

When Kent continued to ignore him, he sighed and turned to face him, tone gentler; “You know I was just teasing when I said those comments, right? I wasn’t trying to offend you. If I somehow do offend you you’ll call me out on it, right?”

After another bout of silence, Kent sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I will.”

Gavin passed him the coffee. Kent took it and began to sip at it. He complained tensely, “I don’t want people to think I’m old. And if I did that at the station… There’s little privacy. I’d be found out eventually, and my men would never let me see the end of it.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Well, first off, you’re only 48; so chill the fuck out. And graying hair is a fact of life, Kent. You can’t fully ignore it; dying your hair for appearances’ sake will be a waste of time and money in the long term.” He pressed a hand to Kent’s knee reassuringly, “Besides, gray hair is just more evidence you’ve earned your rank and should be respected that much more. You’ve made it this far in an intensive line of work. You should be as recognized as you can get.”

Kent thought it over before speaking up again. “Even _ more _recognition… that doesn’t sound too bad,” he contemplated, tone lighter.

Gavin hummed in agreement and moved so he was sitting right next to Kent. “Like hell I’d leave you over graying hair, too.” He slung his arm over his shoulders, adding warmly, “I’m sure you’ll be as handsome an asshole with gray hair. If not even more handsome than you are now.” Kent relaxed slightly into his side.

He leaned in and kissed Kent’s cheek, pressing his forehead to his temple and breathing in the scent of the coffee as Kent finished drinking it. The proximity made him feel at ease; and grateful Kent wasn’t tense or moving away. Evidence his husband, as always, understood him.

Kent lowered the mug to his lap. He turned his head, their noses bumping together as he kissed him, soft and gentle. The kiss was over in a split second, and Gavin had to stop himself from leaning in for another. It had been a day since they’d last actually kissed like that. Too damn long. Kent stood up and out of his hold, extending his hand out to Gavin, his expression kinder, “C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Gavin smiled up at him for the briefest of moments, grabbing his hand as Kent pulled him up.

**Author's Note:**

> Aka my first published and completely written work for my beloved rare pair that doesn't have one of them getting injured and/or moderate to heavy angst. I'm proud of myself for that, haha. Thanks for reading!


End file.
